Valentine’s Day Terribles

Valentine’s Day Terribles

Happy Valentine’s Day, y’all.

If you’re anything like me, you’re at your stationary or mobile internet device of choice and pondering how you’ve reached your 8th Singles Awareness Day with just your cat for company and the faint hope that there might be a silk rose for you before the day is out. If you are me, you’re doing that while working and possibly chatting with guys you wish you or they would get the cojones to advance whatever you’ve got somewhere beyond where it currently stands. Obviously not my favorite day, but it seemed like a good day as any to poke some fun at my own dating life.

I’m no stranger to internet dating. I’ve been doing it since before it was cool, having met the now-ex-fiancee in an AOL chat room. Y’know, back when those existed… Still, as a result, I’ve learned there’s a few things that can irk a person like me who’s trying to get closer to another person they met via online means. I’m going to try to be as gender neutral as possible, but nothing is going to change the fact that I am a straight lady with straight lady experience only. Dudes, you’re welcome to adjust where you see fit to make it easier for you to understand. Also, dudes, keep in mind if you’re single and agree wholeheartedly with what I’m sayin’, there’s a contact link at the top of this page. It sends mail right to my inbox, no problem! *hint hint, nudge nudge*

Let’s get started!

The Wanker

I’ve been chatting on a program called SKOUT and I’ve even given my number to text with a few guys on there. One in particular–very handsome guy–piqued my interest. We shared quite a few similar interests and he seemed very understanding about my desire to wait. He reached out to me first, even with the gawd-awful picture I have on my profile, so I figured he might be a serious potential.

It’s been two weeks texting, we haven’t met in person yet (he’s tops 10 miles from me), and I know more about the frequency of his self-pleasure than I care about.

Here’s a hint, people: The guys and gals ideal to settle down with (henceforth known as The Keepers) don’t give a shit how long it’s been since you’ve had sex or how frequently your rub one out. The only time that matters to us is if we’ve agreed to be intimate with you and it isn’t happening.

The Not-So-Private Model

SingleGirlie already wrote a hilariously accurate article on this already, so I’m not going to reinvent the wheel. Don’t feel like laughing your arse off? Okay, it basically says there’s absolutely no reason to email/text/courier pidgin pictures of your junk to someone.

I disagree a little with that statement, but she’s talking for her and I usually think about a wider audience of Keepers. There may be Keepers who are into that, but usually only AFTER a relationship is established. I don’t know any Keeper who’ll receive a random dick or vag shot and go “Oh… Oh, my! Is it hot in here? Whoo… I better respond to this right away!” No, SingleGirlie is spot on in we will ridicule you. A lot. Sometimes even in a public forum. Maybe even in a blog!

The Winker

Not to be confused with The Wanker, The Winker initiates a conversation with the “Send Wink” button. Can I just say how incredibly useless that is to me? I can tell a lot about a person from one sentence. I can tell if they’re friendly, blunt, or shy. I can tell how much they care about sentence structure and what their intentions are. This is all based on the first message, sometimes as short as one word. However, I can’t do all that when a person uses the pre-scripted lazy button. Also, it makes me feel that there was nothing interesting enough in my profile or pictures to make it more personalized, so therefore we probably won’t really connect. So, usually, The Winker ends up being deleted immediately.


Those are the types I’ve been running into recently. Disagree with me? Cool. I’m always open for a good debate. Have any to add? Please tell me your story! Dating horror stories are almost as awesome as ice cream in front of the TV on Valentine’s Day!

[Image: Robert Proksa]